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Practice makes things…… complicated

 A few weeks ago I had this dream in which I said to myself, ‘if you practice something, you will get better at it.’ Though this sounds like a dumb, obvious statement to make in the waking world- it felt like a divine tablet that was being passed to me in the dream world. I woke up filled with this notion of “Right, if I practice this- I will get better at it!” It seems so simple, a phrase that gets repeated constantly and yet we make this simple thing very complicated.  Somehow it is so easy to get in our own way and prevent this thing we really want to happen from actually happening.                      

     There are a lot of reasons why we prevent ourselves from committing to something we love to do: perhaps we only know how to motivate ourselves with abuse or unkindness and the only available counter is collapse and inaction. Maybe we don’t know how to break things down into manageable pieces and it exists as a huge, nebulous goal that overwhelms us. Or do we get trapped in the idea that our art form is an event as opposed to a process? I once had a teacher say to me, “If I put a block of ice in a room that is below freezing and I continue to warm up the room by one degree at a time- which degree that I added made the ice melt?”  I loved this comparison because it highlights for me that this process is cumulative. What we are really after is deepening our sensitivity, our ability to observe, and then invite choice. The good news is that even on days that seemingly don’t go well, we are still adding to the overall warming of the room. This time could never be wasted because you spent energy and attention on your instrument and likely still walked away with information.  If you are someone (like I am) who struggles with showing up for your art for whatever reason, getting started is usually the hardest part. 

         What tiny thing can you do to get yourself going today? Put a song you are working on somewhere you will see it regularly? Can you add some practice times to your calendar? Try to piggyback your practice onto an already well formed habit. Commit to only 15 minutes if you have to and if you still aren’t feeling it, give yourself permission to stop. Connect with a friend who is also struggling with motivation, reach out and set up a zoom meeting where you are both muted and can practice each in your own space with accountability. You could even share something you have been working on at the end- or not! Can we allow ourselves to step away from a notion of discipline and move towards acts of devotion to something we love?

What does being prepared feel like in your body?

What is it like to feel prepared?

When I first question this for myself, I feel a calm, quiet expansion. Something like trust. Preparedness is a kindness I give to myself. 

I feel held by the preparedness in a way that gives my nervous energy a pathway to cross over into excitement. Excitement to share, joy to include others in something I have learned and/or have a unique expression of. Excitement to be sharing something I love. 

I feel a lightness in my head as it relates to my neck- not to be mistaken for lightheadedness because it is quite the opposite. There is a soft clarity, my eyes can receive what they are seeing. I can respond to the world around me while I consciously participate in what I am creating in each moment. 

My feet feel connected to the ground beneath me. My heels are released into the floor. The back of me is in its full length, my arms are light and free to move. My hands are free to express more deeply what my words and intentions carry. Words that I have a deep understanding of. Words and melodies that connect to something inside me that means something. 

As I breathe, the air drops into my lungs- allowing for space in 360 degrees. I feel this alllll the way down my torso, creating a secure, flexible, and responsive bellows for me to play with. 

My lips, tongue, and jaw are free and available for what my breath and the vowels I choose are asking of them. My throat is open and the sound is clear and resonant.  I am able to authentically connect to what I am saying and this energizes and colors my voice from the inside out. 

My mind and body know what to do.  I trust my mind and my body. 

BLOG

Practice makes things…… complicated

 A few weeks ago I had this dream in which I said to myself, ‘if you practice something, you will get better at it.’ Though this sounds like a dumb, obvious statement to make in the waking world- it felt like a divine tablet that was being passed to me in the dream world. I woke up filled with this notion of “Right, if I practice this- I will get better at it!” It seems so simple, a phrase that gets repeated constantly and yet we make this simple thing very complicated.  Somehow it is so easy to get in our own way and prevent this thing we really want to happen from actually happening.                      

     There are a lot of reasons why we prevent ourselves from committing to something we love to do: perhaps we only know how to motivate ourselves with abuse or unkindness and the only available counter is collapse and inaction. Maybe we don’t know how to break things down into manageable pieces and it exists as a huge, nebulous goal that overwhelms us. Or do we get trapped in the idea that our art form is an event as opposed to a process? I once had a teacher say to me, “If I put a block of ice in a room that is below freezing and I continue to warm up the room by one degree at a time- which degree that I added made the ice melt?”  I loved this comparison because it highlights for me that this process is cumulative. What we are really after is deepening our sensitivity, our ability to observe, and then invite choice. The good news is that even on days that seemingly don’t go well, we are still adding to the overall warming of the room. This time could never be wasted because you spent energy and attention on your instrument and likely still walked away with information.  If you are someone (like I am) who struggles with showing up for your art for whatever reason, getting started is usually the hardest part. 

         What tiny thing can you do to get yourself going today? Put a song you are working on somewhere you will see it regularly? Can you add some practice times to your calendar? Try to piggyback your practice onto an already well formed habit. Commit to only 15 minutes if you have to and if you still aren’t feeling it, give yourself permission to stop. Connect with a friend who is also struggling with motivation, reach out and set up a zoom meeting where you are both muted and can practice each in your own space with accountability. You could even share something you have been working on at the end- or not! Can we allow ourselves to step away from a notion of discipline and move towards acts of devotion to something we love?

What does being prepared feel like in your body?

What is it like to feel prepared?

When I first question this for myself, I feel a calm, quiet expansion. Something like trust. Preparedness is a kindness I give to myself. 

I feel held by the preparedness in a way that gives my nervous energy a pathway to cross over into excitement. Excitement to share, joy to include others in something I have learned and/or have a unique expression of. Excitement to be sharing something I love. 

I feel a lightness in my head as it relates to my neck- not to be mistaken for lightheadedness because it is quite the opposite. There is a soft clarity, my eyes can receive what they are seeing. I can respond to the world around me while I consciously participate in what I am creating in each moment. 

My feet feel connected to the ground beneath me. My heels are released into the floor. The back of me is in its full length, my arms are light and free to move. My hands are free to express more deeply what my words and intentions carry. Words that I have a deep understanding of. Words and melodies that connect to something inside me that means something. 

As I breathe, the air drops into my lungs- allowing for space in 360 degrees. I feel this alllll the way down my torso, creating a secure, flexible, and responsive bellows for me to play with. 

My lips, tongue, and jaw are free and available for what my breath and the vowels I choose are asking of them. My throat is open and the sound is clear and resonant.  I am able to authentically connect to what I am saying and this energizes and colors my voice from the inside out. 

My mind and body know what to do.  I trust my mind and my body.